


une descente en chute libre

by clairvoie



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Gen, One Shot, POV Will Graham, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Will wakes up alone, don't come for resolved issues, non specific on issues like platonic feelings so feel free to interpret it any way you wish, quite short and ends abruptly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 13:42:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11898954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clairvoie/pseuds/clairvoie
Summary: Will wakes up alone. Sensations and thoughts until...someone finds him.





	une descente en chute libre

**Author's Note:**

> this isn't the first fic i've written, but I feel good enough about it that I wanted to post it. I mostly write poetry, and have hardly written much prose save for my last Final Exam in English. So, je m'excuse if it's cringy at all.  
> Title: "a freefall"

 

The distorted lull of crashing waves was the first thing to greet Will when his eyes shot open. Next, a dull pain ringing through his skull, and, as he moved to push upwards, a wrenching pain that shot down his arm.

Dark. It was very dark. Wet rock reflecting the shine of the moon. He had washed up on the corner of the shore, it seemed. Maybe he swam. _Shore, wave,_ the burn of salt through his cheek... _wait..._ the ocean, the quiet shoreline… Images of dark blood and the gut-dropping feeling before the free fall flashed suddenly across his mind. _Hannibal. oh no - no, where-_ Blood ran down his shoulder and into the palm of his hand. Alive. He was very much alive.

 

The both of them or neither. That was what should have happened- what he had subconsciously hoped for. Instead he was alone, coarse sand in his wet hair. Instead, wet, ripped and bloodied clothes stuck to his skin, the distant moon of course offering no inkling of warmth; shakes wracking his entire body as he walked the length of the isolated shore- the terribly _silent_ shore. To his left, the ocean lapped continuously onto the sand, much more calmly than the waves further out, which violently hit the last visible low spot of the eroding bluff. They smashed against the rock, turbulent and unyielding. Will pictured his body separating from Hannibal’s as they hit the surface, pictured his body pulled out to sea, the latter’s being ravaged… smashing against rock, breaking apart-

Will ran a hand down the length of his face, flinching at the touch of skin upon the small hole in his cheek. Tried to steady his ragged breathing. Frantic thought instead took over; a cold, red panic travelling down the length of his body.

 

He couldn’t remember the impact, couldn’t remember how he had arrived at shore. One arm hung limp at his side, possibly broken. Then, he couldn’t have swam, surely. Maybe he had- _maybe…_ _God. Please._

He remembered steady arms wrapped securely around his torso, fingers digging into his back with a sense of urgency. Hannibal’s hands pulling Will closer all the way down, his body falling towards the freezing ocean, guided by the soothing sensation of free fall. _He had- he had hit the water first, Hannibal had, must have. He wouldn’t have- the water too cold, too vicious..._

A gasping cry escaped from his throat. Hands moved to push the foreign scream he felt brewing back down. If he started, he was sure he wouldn’t stop.

 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, it had to be both, it had to be the two of them. Both of their bodies broken by the rock, two sources to stain the blue water. Two lives entwined, snuffed out by an impartial party, free from hesitation. A sure death.

 

He couldn’t- _I need_ \- he was still bleeding- _bleeding enough to…?_

 

Suddenly, pressure on his good shoulder. Weight pressing down into his skin. A dark voice, a familiar sound.

“Will.” 

 


End file.
